Two Princes
by Fyme
Summary: Work in Progress - I write when I feel like it! Rated MA for later chapters. Prince Anduin and Wrathion get to know each other quite well when Anduin is injured. Wrathion's so busy scheming he never considered romance... however to Humans, this is near second nature. Will the Black Prince ever learn to love after his entire flight got slaughtered, or is he too hell-bent on revenge?
1. 1 The Bell Tolled

It seemed to take an eternity before the dust settled from the Divine Bell. Anduin writhed in pain underneath the sharp rubble. What little air he could still suck into his lungs despite the heavy weight pressing his chest down was deathly cold and smelled of dust and blood.

_"__I have to get out of here..." _Anduin thought furiously. _"Light, aid me! It can't end here... Not under this broken instrument of harmony, not today, not now... Oh fuck... Who knew death hurt this much?"_

Anduin shivered, making little patches of dust flare up again around him in the light of the setting sun. He sighed in annoyance as the Light within him couldn't even soothe his pain anymore. He was exhausted, cold, and bleeding dry. An unknown bird seemed to call out, mocking his stupidity for believing he could stand against Garrosh alone. He had been stupid... And stupidity made him pay the ultimate price. The black spots before his eyes grew larger and eventually took over his entire vision. He was only vaguely conscious of the hastened flapping of wings nearing him.

_"__Great... I'm dying, and already the vultures come..."_ he sighed to himself.

_"__Let them..."_

Anduin woke with a start when the cold water touched his forehead. Wrathion frowned as the Human Prince grabbed his wrist with feverish strength. His piercing blue eyes stood wild and questioning, and though his lips were apart not a sound came from them. Wrathion stared back into the young man's gaze with matching fire, though his did not spring from fever.

"You're getting into a lot of trouble, Prince Anduin... You're lucky I was there." he murmured.

Anduin seemed to relax a bit, still fatigued from blood loss and the magically induced fever. Wrathion shook his head and clacked his tongue disapprovingly. The Prince was an invaluable piece in Wrathion's game, sadly enough. His death would have been more than unfortunate. He couldn't help but frown when he remembered the scene where he had found Anduin, already cold as ice in a puddle of his own blood. His leg had taken most of the beating. It had taken him all of his knowledge of the Red Flight's healing powers to make sure Anduin still had both of his attached to him.

"Sleep, my Prince." he cooed at the blonde boy that still looked at him, filled with questions. "Sleep. You won't have any questions left by sunrise... That's a promise."

The fever was inelegant, but it served its purpose. Just like the many heroes that had passed over the floor of the Inn by the Veiled Stair, it served its purpose. Anduin wouldn't remember that it had been Wration that came to save him, or nursed him back to health. He would never know just how priceless his royal arse had become.

Anduin sat upright in the bed. Early morning had broken outside the bamboo walls of what seemed to be an inn's upper room. He perked his ears when he heard a soft snorting. When his eyes adjusted to the darkness of the other end of the room, he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

By the wall, in a luxuriously padded chair sat Wrathion. Or rather, hung Wrathion. His right leg was sprawled over the arm rest, his left arm hung limply nearly down to the ground over the other side. His turban had slipped down over his eyes so Anduin could only make out the dragon's lips and everything below it. They seemed to glisten, which puzzled Anduin until he realised Wrathion was drooling.

With a snort and twitch Wrathion rolled his head to the side, making the turban nearly fall off, releasing a large part of his half-long black curls down to his shoulders. His earrings seemed expensive and complimented his dark skin, making him seem exotic, powerful and wealthy... Had it not been for the drool and silly pose on the chair.

Anduin shook his head and averted his eyes. He shouldn't be watching him sleep like this. He started inspecting his own wounds. He remembered feeling weak before, like all of the Light he had summoned to aid him and heal his wounds had run out, but now it seemed to be at its regular strength again. As he traced his bare arms and torso he found bandages over his stomach, keeping thicker compresses to his back. Smaller scars adorned his upper arms, most likely from his run-in with the Bell. He didn't remove the bandages, scared that his actions might open up wounds he was currently blissfully unaware of and instead started checking his head.

His hair was wet, which struck him as odd. It was colder at his forehead, but he didn't remember taking a bath before going to bed. In fact, he didn't remember going anywhere after the Bell crumpled and crashed on top of him. He looked around the room again. The door was closed and he didn't see any sign of his usual guards being around.

"This is getting curiouser and curiouser." he murmured to himself.

His clothes were laying on a table not far from the bed. Always having been one to rise early, Anduin shifted his weight to slip off the bed, but gasped in pain when the weight shifted from his leg.

_"__So much for being blissfully unaware." _he cursed._ "Light! My leg!"_

Anduin hissed, his eyes shut tightly as he focussed on trying to dull the pain with his magic. He breathed in deeply through his nose and out his mouth. He hadn't even noticed Wrathion get up, much less did he expect the dragon to be standing next to him, practically pushing him back into bed. Anduin stared at him defiantly. He expected Wrathion's anger in return, not a playful smile, a wagging of his finger and the tone of a school teacher.

"You shouldn't be up and about, young Prince." he chuckled. "Your leg still needs to heal."

"What am I doing here? And for that matter, what are you doing here?" Anduin demanded.

"Questions, questions..." Wrathion shook his head, his earrings beating the sides of his cheeks as he suddenly stopped.

He looked at Anduin curiously then and ran a hand through his silken black hair. He frowned, angrily almost, seeming to blame Anduin for something. He leaned close to the young Prince, their noses almost touching as he seemed to be looking for something in Anduin's eyes.

"What?" Anduin finally managed, unsure how to approach the dragon and dazed by his sudden loss of personal space.

"What do you remember?" the dragon asked.

"The Bell crushed me. I was dying." he breathed, uneasy under the dragon's fixed glare.

"Ah... Yes. That it did, and that you were." Wrathion hummed, leaning back again and sitting down on the side of Anduin's bed.

"What did you do to me?" Anduin demanded now he regained his composure.

At that Wrathion smiled again. No, it wasn't a smile, it was a smirk. A challenge. As if he were saying _Wouldn't you like to know?_

"What did you do to me?" Anduin asked again, reaching to pull Wrathion close to his face by his shirt.

_"__If he won't have respect for my personal space, I won't have any for his either."_ he thought and gritted his teeth.

Wrathion was taken aback by the sudden forwardness of the Prince. He was stronger than he looked, even after the fever and his near run-in with the afterlife. He laid his warm hand on top of Anduin's, not intending to lose this confrontation. He was aware now, and though Wrathion's power wasn't to be underestimated, he only had a limited amount of it. A limited amount he had spent on nursing the Prince back to health.

_"__If I tell him nothing, he does have enough pull to get my head on a silver platter... or at least greatly inconvenience my play with the Alliance. What if I told him... Just enough? Truth can be an even more valuable ally than lies..."_ Wrathion mused, then smiled decisively, more to himself than at the Prince.

"I saved you, Prince Anduin Wrynn." he started.

Anduin did not seem surprised, nor did he interrupt him. Though he was angry, he was also smart. Wrathion knew he had to watch what he said next, for the Prince was listening very carefully to his words.

"I saw you lying in the rubble. I pulled you out and nursed you back to health. You ran quite a fever. It's been three days since Garrosh Hellscream rang the Bell."

Anduin did not relax his grip. Wrathion was getting annoyed and shifted against his grip, only to have it tighten instead.

"Where are my guards?" Anduin demanded.

"I sent word for them." Wrathion lied.

He had planned on leaving the Prince in some fisherman's hut as a surprise. Pandaren were always peaceful and trustworthy enough to make sure that he'd have gotten home again safely. As Anduin narrowed his eyes and let his gaze slide down to take in the entirety of his face instead of simply glaring into his eyes, Wrathion worried his meagre lie was to be discovered. He should have used more detail, and as he drew breath to add it Anduin released him and sank back against the pillow.

"Thank you, Wrathion." the Prince sighed.

Wrathion rubbed his chest and quirked a questioning eyebrow at Anduin, who smiled.

"You saved my life, after all. I guess that means I'm in your debt."

"I... Don't mention it." Wrathion grunted and got up to stretch himself.

"But you-"

"Seriously. I have a reputation to uphold." Wrathion insisted and cracked his neck.

Anduin shook his head and shrugged. Wrathion yawned loudly and scratched his shoulder. He walked back to the luxurious chair he'd been sleeping in and picked up his turban, which had fallen down next to it. He skilfully and quickly adorned his head with it again and winked at the Prince, who crossed his arms and scoffed, unimpressed by his bravado.

"So, my liege. Do you think you can eat?"


	2. 2 Mountain Spring

A few days had passed and still no guards had shown up. Pandaria was a vast continent, but Anduin had expected better organisation from the Alliance. Perhaps Wrathion's message hadn't gone through? He shook his thoughts and worries as he let himself carefully sink into the hot water of the strange mountain spring. The heat did wonders for his leg and allowed Anduin to relax without using his Light to numb the pain.

He laid there for a while, enjoying the weightlessness of his lower body as he slowly slipped deeper into the steam. The sound of moving water made him open an eye. This was his private bath time and as he opened his mouth to reprimand the stranger, it was Wrathion's face that winked at him from between the columns of steam.

Anduin smirked and shook his head, not bothering to tell the dragon to sod off. He had been very diligent in his task to keep him safe, that much was sure. But he didn't baby him either, and for that Anduin was grateful. He treated him as an equal, if not as an inferior being even. It was a nice change from the brown-nosed guards that waited for his every beck-and-call.

He couldn't help but ponder how close he'd gotten to the dragon over the past few days. They had played Pandaren games together, met with Wrathion's 'adventurers' as he called them, but not a single one of them had been of the Alliance. What little Orcish Anduin understood was Wrathion promising them wealth in return for... What, exactly? Knowledge about the Throne of Thunder? He was up to something, that much was certain. But it wasn't something to ponder now, in the hot spring that relaxed all his muscles.

He opened a single eye again, peering at Wrathion. He wasn't sitting too far off, the water submerging his strangely muscular torso and letting his black hair wave out slightly in the moving water. He had a slight smile on his lips, seeming very much content with where he was right then and there. He was a handsome man with a well-toned body and naturally high cheekbones. Only his nose was very sharp and angular, but it suited him somehow, just like his little steam-stained goatee. The only thing that didn't seem to fit his appearance were his eyes, bright red with ink-black irises like a dragon's. Anduin suspected he kept them that way to make his 'adventurers' realise just how powerful he was.

Anduin blubbered and coughed, not having realised how deep he'd sank into the water while he had been observing Wrathion and accidentally breathing in water instead of air. Wrathion was immediately by his side, not at all phased by the sudden breach of tranquillity by the spring. He'd grabbed a towel and dried off Anduin's face.

"Don't go dying on me now, Prince. I worked too hard to keep you alive!" he jested.

Anduin couldn't help but laugh. He rasped his throat again in an attempt to clear the last bit of water from his lungs. He nodded and gently pushed Wrathion away, suddenly very much aware of both their naked bodies in the clear water.

"You won't get rid of me that easily, Wrathion." he snickered and brushed his hair out of his face.

"I should hope not."

Wrathion lingered, looking up at the Prince as he sank back into the water until it touched his chin. He left the towel at the side of the pool and peered at his bathing partner curiously. Had Anduin not been focussed on his eyes, he would probably have missed the all-too-brief gaze down to his crotch. He looked down himself, too, then back at Wrathion, who chuckled and averted his eyes. It was hard to tell with the steam and his dark skin, but was Wrathion blushing? The very idea made Anduin stop and stare at the back of the handsome man's head. As he took his earrings out and put them aside, Anduin found himself wondering.

_"__I never really thought about... his kind's sexuality. I mean, they have brood-mothers, and regular males and females, but... It's not unheard of, a dragon taking a mortal for a consort. Light, Anduin, listen to yourself! You can't seriously be..."_

Anduin shook his head, annoyed. He was being a fool, a young fool at that. Time would come he'd need to marry and provide an heir to the throne. But... no-one knew where he was right now, or did they? And even so... no-one would know if anything were to happen...

He bit his lip and reached out for Wrathion's shoulder. He needed to ask... But what would he ask? How would he ask it? He could just be imagining things. And even so, this dragon, he had other motives. He saved his life, but why? Anduin's hands hesitated, and he startled as Wrathion turned around, his mouth open as if to speak. His eyes focussed on Anduin's extended hand, which he quickly pulled back.

Wrathion smiled again, but it didn't seem jesting as before. For the first time Anduin seemed to detect sincerity in the dragon's expression.

"I have to ask-" both of them started, then stopped.

Anduin chuckled nervously and shook his head. He motioned for Wrathion to speak first, an easier way out, as he felt nerves flush his cheeks bright red.

"I have to ask, Anduin... What... do you think of me?"

Anduin looked up at Wrathion. Had he been wanting to ask the same question he had almost asked? He stared at him, apparently for a rather long time, because Wrathion shifted uncomfortably and bit his lip, frowning again.

"I think many things about you, Wrathion." Anduin murmured and edged closer. "None of them are bad."

Wrathion seemed to relax a bit, his eyes widening as the Prince came to his own eye-level. He wanted to ask him what he _did_ think about him then, but his words were smothered by the lips of the Prince. Wrathion was surprised, but didn't pull away. Instead he found his eyes drooping shut as a fire roared within him with more strength than he had ever felt before. It came from the Prince's lips and his wandering, gentle hands over his back and every piece of skin Wrathion managed to touch with his.

When Anduin pulled away to breathe and let out a relieved chuckle, Wrathion found himself sad for seemingly the first time ever. He caressed Anduin's cheek, yearning for more of the fire he had given him, but the Prince just chuckled and looked into his eyes.

"I'm so glad you feel the same way..." Anduin whispered.


	3. 3 Long Evenings

Anduin sat on the wide windowsill, his aching leg jutted up on a pillow. He fidgeted with his headband while looking out towards the darkening, rough mountainside that was mostly covered in mists. Wrathion had gone downstairs for one reason or another. It had been a while now, but Anduin didn't think much of it. He had sent a messenger bird the day before towards the Alliance ships to tell them of his survival when Wrathion had finally admitted the possibility that his message hadn't quite gone through yet.

He sighed and looked at his hands laying limply on his lap. He didn't want to leave. He wasn't sure he'd even be able to with his leg being the way it was. It simply wouldn't heal. One of Wrathion's adventurers had taken time to look at it for him, but the Draenei Paladin had not been able to heal his leg either.

"The Light is a peculiar force, Prince Anduin." the Paladin had said to him. "It only heals what we want it to heal, and even then it decides what we need to heal. Rest, Prince Anduin, and pray to the Light. In time the Light shall reveal its plan to you."

He had prayed, but only once in a while. Whenever he started, either Wrathion walked in again or he couldn't find the words to form his prayers beyond the usual blessings. It was no use. Perhaps the Draenei had been right, and he didn't want to heal. It seemed more plausible by the hour since the Paladin's departure this morning.

Anduin started from his musings when Wrathion walked into the room without knocking. The Black Prince, as they called him, seemed exhausted. Anduin couldn't help but smile when Wrathion rather theatrically swung up his leg and flopped down on his back on the bed with a sigh. Anduin slipped off the windowsill, his cane making soft thumping sounds with every step as he slowly walked over to Wrathion who was now rubbing his eyes in the typical woe-is-me manner carnival actors tended to use.

"Long day?" he asked.

"Oh you wouldn't believe half of it, Prince Anduin." he said, smiling now. "Five adventurers, all with different and increasingly longer tales. You'd think at least the one without a tongue wouldn't speak that much, but her parrot... I swear it was the biggest chatterbox of all."

Anduin laughed and sat down on the side of the bed. Wrathion finally pulled his hand from his forehead and instead laid it on Anduin's lap. They smiled at each other.

"It's almost a shame," Wrathion mused softly. "that I can't tell them about the adventures I've been having of my own."

"Wrathion... We agreed." Anduin said, tracing the edges of the turban with his fingertip.

"No, you agreed... Not that I don't know it's probably for the better. They might start questioning my allegiance if I'm not careful. But today is done for. I told Tong to offer the adventurers lodging on my tab if any more were to come in for today."

Anduin smiled widely and leaned down to kiss Wrathion's lips. A soft squeeze on his lower back made him stay a little while longer before getting up. When he did, Wrathion looked at him hungrily with hastened breath. His turban had gone crooked, but the dragon quickly tossed it aside.

"Please... More." Wrathion murmured, sitting upright then to press his lips needily against the other Prince's.

Anduin was all too happy to oblige, putting his cane against the wall and nibbling at Wrathion's lower lip while his hand slipped down to unclasp the heavy armour the Black Prince was wearing – mostly to impress adventurers, but all it did to him was hinder the impressions of Wrathion's darkened, bare skin which felt rough as scales and soft as silk at the same time. He shifted his weight, wanting to sit over Wrathion's lap but as weight passed over his injured leg he found himself gasping from pain instead of pleasure.

For a split second Wrathion seemed annoyed rather than worried, but when he realised why Anduin had stopped to clasp his leg, his expression softened. He rolled off the other side of the bed and walked around, kneeling down at Anduin's side to take a better look in case old wounds had opened again.

"It's okay, Wrathion. It's just, when I'm with you... Sometimes I forget not to put weight on the damned thing." Anduin hissed through his teeth.

His eyes were shut tightly and he practiced his breathing methods in through the nose, out through the mouth while sending his magic to numb the pain. At least nothing had been truly torn open again. Anduin wasn't keen on getting any more scars on the already scarred mess that was his leg.

"Lie down." Wrathion ordered him.

Anduin looked at him curiously as Wrathion took off his armoured tunic as if it weighed nothing more than the cloth tunic Anduin was wearing. The dark-skinned man tilted his head forward then, the shadow casting over his face making him seem rather menacing for a second. Taken aback by the sudden change in mood, Anduin found himself lying back on the pillow.

"Take off your tunic and lie on your stomach." Wrathion told him then and walked towards a chest not far from the window.

"Why?" Anduin found himself asking.

He shouldn't be ordered around, he was a Prince... Or something. It didn't seem to matter any more now than it had before he'd met Wrathion. He had checked the chest Wrathion was rummaging in before, hours on end cooped up in the room of the inn without anything to do but read and play board games... It had been empty before. Wrathion pulled out a rather large vial and walked back over to Anduin before answering.

"This oil in here has some healing properties. Most of them numb pain and..." He stopped to read the label. "Arthritis. Whatever, it should be good for you, no?"

"I don't know, Wrathion..." Anduin hesitated.

Wrathion put the vial aside next to the bed and sat down, carefully scooting Anduin's legs aside so he could properly sit, but Anduin hissed in pain again, jerking his chest upwards. Though he hid it well, today was a bad day for his leg, and thus a bad day for him. Wrathion shook his head disappointedly. He reached to caress Anduin's cheek, leaning closer as if to kiss him. Instead he murmured another order to his lover.

"Take off your tunic, and lie on your stomach." Wrathion repeated.

This time Anduin nodded and allowed Wrathion to help him get out of his clothes. First his tunic, then the shirt he wore underneath. With quite a bit of strain he rolled onto his stomach while Wrathion magically closed the shutters of the window and lit a single light on the table. It gave a gentle orange hue to the room, much like a flame even though it was a magic light.

"Wrathion?" Anduin's voice came muffled from lying with his mouth against the large pillow.

"Yes, Anduin?"

"Thank you."

Wrathion stopped in his motions, surprised. No-one had ever thanked him before for something that didn't involve a large transaction of money or magical items, and even then they only rarely did. Anduin himself only had ever thanked him for saving his life, which had been no small feat either. He found himself smiling and nodding before picking up the vial again to rub the oil between his hands.

"Don't mention it."

Anduin hummed softly.

"No, seriously... I have-"

"A reputation to uphold." Anduin chuckled.

"Exactly." Wrathion said and brought his warm hands down to Anduin's lower back.

The Prince gasped softly. His skin was sensitive even there, but the oil soon started to do its work. Being a dragon, Wrathion was largely immune to the effects of the oil. Despite his affinity for the Light, Prince Anduin remained a mere mortal. Wrathion rubbed the oil in gently at first, not wanting to hurt Anduin. After a while he found the muscles under his hands lose their tenseness, so he pulled down Anduin's pants a bit.

"What are you doing?" Anduin asked in a hushed voice.

"It's just so I can reach better." Wrathion told him.

It was hard to tell Anduin's reaction in the dim light, as his face was turned away from Wrathion. Since no further protests came, Wrathion carefully started slipping the cloth pants down, off his hips, down his legs to his knees. Anduin had made little gasping sounds every now and then, so he stopped there, not willing to inconvenience the already tensed up Prince any more than necessary.

"Take... Take it all off, Wrathion." Anduin breathed in a strained manner.

"Are you in pain?" Wrathion asked him.

Anduin chuckled and shook his head.

"I might as well be. You're such a cruel tease, Wrathion. Please... Don't stop now!"

Wrathion found his cheeks heating up with those words and he looked down again at Anduin's bared ass. His legs were slightly apart, but even in the darkness he could see the royal family jewels that he had inadvertently stroked by taking off Anduin's pants. He bit his lip, finding himself getting aroused as well, but Anduin surely was still in pain... Desires would have to wait for a little bit longer, he decided, and carefully pulled down the rest of Anduin's pants over his ankles and tossed the piece of clothing aside.

He continued rubbing the oil over Anduin's largely scarred leg carefully at first, but eventually found himself kneading it into Anduin's flesh. Time and time again his hands wandered upwards to Anduin's butt, resulting in hushed moans from the Prince. Eventually he couldn't take it anymore and worked his way down in small circles from Anduin's back to his butt cheeks, grabbing a firm hold of them when he shifted his weight to sit over Anduin's legs. The bugle at his crotch had become rather uncomfortable in the diagonally shifted position, but he liked this. Anduin was moaning in relaxed enjoyment underneath him, and he had to clench his jaw to not join his moans.

The oil had seeped in deeply enough to dull the pain, but not enough to completely ban all sensation from his skin. It was a strange feeling, but Anduin enjoyed Wrathion's wandering hands. He wished Wrathion would slip his hand between his legs for a change, but was unsure how to tell him... Maybe if he shifted his weight a little, propped up his hips? He was about to do just that when Wrathion slipped off the bed, leaving him aching for more.

"Where are you going?" Anduin asked and rolled onto his back with relative ease.

"I, ... The oil's done all it can do by now, I'm sure." Wrathion hesitated, the vial still in his hand.

"Come back here, please."

"Are you still in- ... pain?"

Wrathion nearly dropped the vial when he saw Anduin tilt his head with an expression that conveyed annoyance as well as desire to him. It wasn't that that claimed his attention, nor his scarred and still semi-muscular torso. It was the length between his legs that stood half-erect that caught his attention. He found himself gasping and needing to grab the side of the table as a strange sensation ran through him, one that answered his desires and turned them to ecstatic joy in the most physical sense of the word. He didn't fully lose his desire for Anduin yet, and for that he was grateful.

"Come..." Anduin begged him, holding out a hand towards his lover.

Wrathion nodded as if in a dream. His legs carried him, but he felt numb. A large grin spread on his face on its own accord as he yanked off his own pants and leaned down to kiss Anduin once more. Immediately it was obvious the Human Prince knew what he was doing better than the Black Prince. His hands wandered down to Wrathion's butt and squeezed, pulling him closer and deeper into the kiss. They parted their lips, just as eager to taste each other as they were to touch each other.

A large amount of pre already stained Wrathion's discarded pants, but that didn't stop him for anything. Anduin guided Wrathion's hand to his shaft, smirking at the inexperienced touch. Wrathion's hand trembled a bit from pleasure and excitement, making Anduin moan eagerly for more. Wrathion revelled in the fire that roared within him once more when Anduin traced his fingertips over his shaft. He did his best to squeeze and tease Anduin, mimicking his movements for a large part at first. When pleasure overtook him, it became harder to do so perfectly, but he had found his own rhythm of rubbing, kissing and pressing his hips down on Anduin's.

Anduin guided Wrathion with little words of encouragement in between his moans and kisses of Wrathion's lips and neck. Simply the smell of Wrathion's hair was enough to drive him crazy it seemed, and the blissful numbness in his leg making it so his attention was undivided and aimed at Wrathion sure helped as well. His manhood throbbed between Wrathion's fingers. It wouldn't be long before he reached his climax, but he held his breath now and then to last as long as he could.

In vain, of course.

He hadn't expected Wrathion to shudder and practically roar in pleasure when he came, thick jets of semen landing on his torso and bits of his chin. Wrathion's fingers which had found their way to Anduin's neck squeezed and knotted his hair together. His lips were next to the Prince's ear, moaning still and breathing carefully, trembling from the experience. Anduin found himself so turned on he couldn't hold it any longer and came as the dragon fell down beside him, once again staining his own torso with cum.

They laid there for a while next to each other. Wrathion was still holding Anduin's member when it started to go back to its flaccid state. The dragon's breath was hot in his neck, hot and even. It had been a perfect end to a long day. Anduin smiled, reaching with his hand and using his magic to get Wrathion's already stained pants to clear the cum off his body before pulling up the blanket to cover both of them in the large Pandaren bed. Then with one more flick of his finger he turned the light off.

"Sleep well, my Prince." he murmured and kissed Wrathion's forehead. "Sleep well."


	4. 4 Dawn Cut Short

Anduin woke to the sound of birds chirping outside, an unusual sound for the misty mountains that surrounded the inn. He yawned and rubbed his eyes with one hand, the other still stuck, probably underneath Wrathion's sleeping body. It was dark in the room, and it took Anduin a while to realise that was so because the blinds were shut. He opened them with the wave of his hand to let apparent sunlight pour in and turned to look at Wrathion.

The dragon was laying on his stomach, face pressed against Anduin's chest with one arm sprawled over his lover. The other arm was curled under one of the many pillows in the large bed, keeping them comfortably pressed against each other. Their legs were intertwined, rather uncomfortably so for Anduin. There wasn't much weight pressing on it, but by now Wrathion's oil had lost its effect. Looking at the Black Prince's peaceful expression Anduin smiled to himself and decided he wouldn't wake him up yet. He still had plenty Light inside him for the day which he could use to numb the pain if it got to be too much, so he leaned back and looked outside the window at the rays of sunlight, sometimes broken by small strands of mist before it reached the windowsill.

He had laid there for about five minutes, caught up in his own musings when a soft knock sounded on the door. He had automatically opened his mouth to answer, but then realised where he was, in what compromising position. A sudden feeling of dread overcame him. What if they found him here, naked, with the Black Prince? The scandal, the rumours, the horrifying mobs of disapproval...

"Just a second!" he shouted in common and rolled out of the bed, trying to muffle his yelp of pain with his hand as he did so, rather unsuccessfully.

Wrathion had started awake from Anduin's shout. His hair a mess and being just as naked as Anduin was, they shared a second long glance of panic. Wrathion shifted into his whelp form and zoomed outside, leaving Anduin alone in the room but not before grabbing his dirty clothes into his claws. Anduin grabbed hold of his shirt and had barely pulled it over his head when two Stormwind crest bearing guards entered the room. He found his face flush red when he tried to cover up his crotch and get up again, once again gasping in pain when his skin tore. However flustered the men might have been behind their helmets, they didn't hesitate to rush to their Prince's aid. While one was quick by his side to lift him back up into the bed, the other yanked off his gloves and started chanting a prayer to the Light to heal Anduin.

Wrathion pulled on his shirt quickly, tearing the sleeve with his hurried force. His pants were stained from yesterday's activities still, but luckily being able to shape-shift into a form that didn't require clothing to be considered 'appropriate', he could carry his pants to a nearby stream to wash them. Drying them would be more difficult for sure.

_"__Did they walk day and night to get to the Hidden Stairs?"_ Wrathion wondered annoyed. _"I swear, there's such a thing as being _too_ vigilant in your duties, stupid Humans..."_

After washing his pants, he slapped them onto a dry rock in the morning sunlight and sat down next to them in his whelpling form. He looked back in the direction where Anduin was in Tong's inn. Why had he gotten so scared from a few guards? There had only been two of them and he could have easily charmed them into thinking they had arrived to find Anduin and himself completely dressed and sitting at the table rather than... Rather than lying stark naked in each other's arms.

Wrathion shook his head. This wasn't the right time for erotic thoughts, and the Human Prince would have never agreed to it in the first place. Besides, Anduin might be in trouble, he was sure he saw blood before leaving in such a hurry. He glared at his pants, mentally urging them to hurry up and dry. Even if he could ask one of his many guards to provide him with another pair of pants, he did not look forward to that kind of request, especially if they would go up to his room to find them – after all, that was where Anduin was with those Human guards. Stupid Human guards. Hadn't they ever heard of waiting until a decent hour before knocking on someone's door?

"Leave me." Anduin said.

"But your highness!" the younger guard protested, resulting in a glare from the middle-aged Paladin.

"I think we've all been flustered enough for one day, and I would prefer to get some pants on." Anduin hissed through clenched teeth.

At that the younger one turned such a bright shade of red he could have passed as an apple. The older guard nodded respectfully and dragged the youngling with him, closing the door behind them. He could hear them position themselves to stand guard after a few reprimanding words to the younger guard. The boy wasn't much older than Anduin himself, and he didn't come off as very bright. Most likely he was a cousin of some high-ranked officer or something like that, and got his position through his apparent lack of common sense to follow orders at times.

Anduin sighed and grabbed his cane. He didn't get up right away however, and pressed the handle of the cane to his forehead.

_"__I don't want to leave. Wrathion, where did you hurry off to? Please... I don't want to leave."_

The Prince grunted in self-pity and pushed himself up. The guard had healed him rather skilfully. At least his leg didn't hurt more than it usually did. He gathered his clothes, using his cane so he didn't have to bend down to pick up his lost pair of pants or his tunic. He sank back down on the bed and clothed himself slowly, for the first time in a long while seemingly able to pray to the Light properly as he begged it to let Wrathion return and make sure he wouldn't have to leave this little nook of bliss he'd found in Pandaria. At least not just yet.

He closed his eyes shut, frowning with concentration to pray. He was concentrating so hard he didn't even hear the knock on the door or the Paladin asking him permission to enter the room again. When the door creaked open and he looked up to the sole intruder, he couldn't hide the sadness from his expression.

"Prince Anduin? Are you alright, your highness?"

Anduin shook his head before he full well understood the question.

"Does your leg still ache?"

"It does, terribly so." Anduin muttered and looked towards the open window.

"I see... Your wounds are too grave for me to heal, your highness. The scars run deep." the guard mused and sat down next to the young Prince.

"So I've been told."

"Why don't we... stay here, for a while?" the man suggested.

Anduin's face lit up. It was hard to tell by the time he had schooled his expression again and looked the guard in the eye, but he was fairly certain his guard hadn't noticed his true emotions just then.

"Just until you feel well enough to travel again, of course. This place seems to be pretty well guarded already, and Jones and I will make sure you're safe at all times of day and night of course during your stay." he nodded and smiled through his short beard.

"Yes, of course. What was your name again?"

"My name's Patrick Tanner, your highness. The boy outside is called Michael Jones."

"Good. Tanner and Jones. The other guards you noticed, they belong to Wrathion, the Black Prince they call him. He seems to be a, uhm, trustworthy enough guy."

"What, the Black Dragon your highness?" Tanner asked, his eyebrows raising quite a bit in surprise.

"Yes, that's him..."

"Why, Black Dragons, your highness, they've been eradicated for a reason." the guard protested.

"A rather racist and unfounded reason." Anduin grunted, and the guard dipped his head, indicating an apology. "Even so, Wrathion saved my life."

"He did, your highness?"

"Yes. He's the one that pulled me out of the rubble from the Bell of Harmony. You'll both treat him with the respect and kindness he deserves."

"Yes, your highness. I'll see to it a proper reward will be arranged for him, as well."

Anduin smiled and nodded in agreement, motioning for the guard to take up his post outside the door again. Though reluctant to leave the Prince alone again, he agreed without a sound and closed the door behind him. He could hear Tanner explain their situation to the other guard, Jones, who didn't seem to be too thrilled to be stuck on a sunny mountainside for too long. At least sunshine wouldn't be something they'd have to worry about too much once the mists came back...

Wrathion yawned. The sun was hot despite the early hour, and even while it was this hot it seemed to take an eternity for his pants to dry. Once again he shifted to his humanoid form to test the cold cloth. The second he touched it, a strange energy seemed to ball up around the piece of clothing. It was a warm, strange magic that he had only ever felt within Priests and Paladins. And Anduin, of course. He looked up and around him, careful to cover his crotch with his free hand in case anyone could see him. There wasn't anyone near, it seemed, no-one hiding within the limits of his pristine draconic eyesight. The energy dissipated, and his pants seemed to be fresh from the washers, ironed and everything.

Wrathion frowned, then shook his head. Magic was strange sometimes, especially in Pandaria. Since he couldn't detect any malicious intent from the piece of clothing, he decided to dress himself and head back to the inn. At least in the time he'd had to think about it, he'd thought out a rather inconspicuous plan: he'd enter through the door from the hot pools, pretending he'd just had a morning bath when he returned to his room. Anduin had been staying with him, and of course, being a gracious host, he had offered his bed to the Prince until his guards could come to pick him up.

A cold, uneasy feeling spread in Wrathion's chest.

Anduin would surely be leaving now. The very thought made him nauseous and angry, but no matter how he tried, he couldn't think of a single way to make Anduin stay without either killing or charming the guards, and both would definitely put a damper on their relationship.

He was barely aware of his surroundings when he dipped his head into the hot pools, and automatically grabbed for one of the towels to dry his face and keep his hair from soaking his shirt. One wet piece of clothing a day was enough in Wrathion's opinion.

He practiced his smile before entering the inn. Unsuccessfully. He sighed and shrugged to himself as he opened the door and tried to rub his right ear dry with the towel.

_"__On with the show, that's what they say... Best get it over with now."_

"You're not of my guards." Wrathion addressed the two bodyguards that stood outside his room at the top of the stairs. "What are you doing here?"

The younger one looked uneasily at the elder one, who dipped his head without looking to his side. They were both fully armoured save for a helmet, bearing the Stormwind crest on the shields at their sides and the hilts of their swords.

"The Black Prince, I presume?" Tanner questioned him.

"Indeed I am. You're blocking my path, I presume?"

"Indeed I am."

Jones had barely straightened his back and laid his hand on the hilt of his sword when Anduin opened the door.

"Wrathion, there you are. I thought I recognised your voice. Come in, come in!" Anduin greeted him with a careful smile on his lips.

Tanner sighed and relaxed his stance, motioning for Wrathion to pass. Jones didn't seem to agree with that course of action, but didn't do anything as Wrathion flashed them both a smug smile and entered his room. Anduin wanted to close the door behind Wrathion, but Tanner held his hand on the door, preventing just that.

"If a stranger's going to be in your room, Prince Anduin, at least one of us should be present." he said with a nod to Jones. "Regardless of whether or not that stranger saved your life." he added when Anduin opened his mouth to protest.

The Human Prince shot an apologetic glance at Wrathion before the elder guard walked in as well. The younger one followed him on his heels. They stood in the rather shadowy corner by the door and positioned themselves for guarding, keeping a keen eye on Wrathion, the window and the door. From this moment on they would be sure to keep a very close eye on the two Princes.


	5. 5 Business Before Pleasure

"Your move." Anduin sighed, resting his chin on his hand.

He was bored and annoyed. Since his father's guards had finally made their way to the Tavern in the Mists, he hadn't had a single moment of privacy it seemed. Dutifully they waited on him, offering pillows, mana potions, anything to help him ease into the healing of his leg faster and better so they could get underway. They didn't like how many strangers came by to see Wrathion, who now received his guests in their room. His many 'adventurers' were both of the Alliance and the Horde, and every time again the guards gripped the hilts of their swords threateningly when another Orc stepped through the door.

They didn't allow anyone, Alliance or Horde member, get any closer than three feet from the Prince. Most of them seemed powerful, but uninterested past the initial surprise of seeing him playing games with Wrathion while they conducted their business mostly in Orcish. Sometimes Anduin'd join in the conversation, doing his best to speak proper Orcish when necessary. Many smiled at him and few corrected his speech with a smirk to the oblivious guards. Some of them frowned disapprovingly, but Wrathion quickly put them in their place or distracted them with his promises of wealth.

This afternoon a particularly strange Blood Elf, or perhaps a High Elf came by. It was hard to tell since her eyes were covered by very dark tinted goggles. Even though by all means she appeared to be blind, she spoke to Wrathion in Common as if to pay respect to the Prince and his guards. She bore the Thalassian accent, but that wasn't the most interesting part about her.

Her blonde hair was tied together in a tight knot. She bore many scars from previous battles, but her demeanour wasn't that of one who'd been in the army. Magic radiated from her daggers, hidden and otherwise. Her armour seemed thick as steel at one moment, then fluid as silk the next. She had seen many battles, and her clothes seemed wealthier than Wrathion's, even if she used them for battle rather than diplomacy and showing off.

"Ah, yes of course dear friend!" Wrathion said in a jovial tone he only used towards his more impressive 'adventurers'. "Do you recall Mason's Folly, the hilltop east of here where you and I met before?"

Anduin looked up curiously at the two. Mason's Folly wasn't too far from here. He had heard it was a small terrace overlooking a cliff not far from the inn. When Wrathion mentioned something about a spear and it being too dangerous to use inside, Anduin's curiosity was caught to say the least.

"What are you two plotting?" Anduin raised his voice and leaned back in his chair.

"I keep no secrets! You are welcome to accompany us, Anduin Wrynn. If your injury permits. Though I implore my friend not to push you off the cliff."

Anduin made a face, but Wrathion and the Elf chuckled. As they walked down the stairs together and Anduin grabbed his cane, his guards rushed to his side to help him up.

"Oh Light damn you two! Take a break for five sodding minutes, will you?!" he snapped at them, jerking his arms out of their hands. "Go have a bath, or eat for crying out loud!"

"But Prince Anduin-" Jones started, but Tanner smacked the side of his head.

"Of course, your highness." Tanner stated.

Anduin grunted and hobbled out after Wrathion and the Elf.

The weather was still sunny that day, the mists had not yet returned to veil the stairs. Wrathion hadn't walked too fast, thankfully, and soon he caught up with them.

"You go on ahead, I'll be there in a second." he told the Elf, who nodded and proceeded.

"Take your time, Anduin." Wrathion implored him. "It's no use if you wreck your leg over a simple climb."

"I'm not an invalid, Wrathion." Anduin bit at him. "I can take care of myself."

Wrathion quickly stepped out in front of Anduin, making both stop in their tracks as they looked into each other's eyes. No words were exchanged, only that one long look. Finally Anduin looked down and sighed. It wasn't Wrathion he was angry at, after all. He was torn between healing and remaining injured, for the latter meant he could stay with Wrathion.

"I'm sorry... Ever since they arrived, I've-"

"Been on edge." Wrathion finished his sentence and laid a hand on the Prince's shoulder.

"It's not fair to take it out on you, Wrathion. It's just, we haven't had a moment's rest from them, and... They shouldn't know." Anduin decided.

Wrathion smiled then and slid his hand over the Prince's neck to cup his cheek and pull his gaze up to meet his once more.

"I know. Now hurry on up, I've got a surprise for you, too." he whispered.

Anduin blinked his eyes a few times, having to hurry after Wrathion who had simply marched on after that. What was he planning? His curiosity turned to excitement as he hobbled up the path to Mason's Folly, eager to learn what Wrathion had to discuss with the Elf. A single thought crossed his mind that made his smile waver briefly. What if Wrathion had asked the Elf to come, pose as one of his 'adventurers' for a... what was it called... 'threesome'? She wasn't exactly aesthetically pleasing, even if she was an Elf.

Anduin shook his head and turned the corner and saw the Elf leaning casually against a low stone wall. It definitely wasn't her that took his breath away, nor was it Wrathion with his narrow eyes and playful smile, who now held a large, broad-bladed spear. It seemed like the entirety of Pandaria stretched out beyond the little wall, large pinnacles and deep cliffs, a river flowing deep below them. He edged closer to the wall, his mouth ajar at the raw beauty of the Pandarian continent.

"Truly a splendour." Wrathion remarked. "Have you ever seen such a view, Prince Anduin?"

"It's breathtaking." Anduin murmured and sat down on the wall, looking out past the cliff.

"It's about to get even more awe-inspiring." Wrathion chuckled.

It seemed the show was starting for the Elf, and Wrathion made quite an effort with his magic to impress her. The skies grew dark and Wrathion droned on and on about how civilisation came to be because lightning struck a tree. Sadly for him, she didn't seem too impressed until he mentioned something called the Crown of Heavens and held out his hand, palm upturned towards her.

This was seemingly what she had been waiting for. She eagerly stepped forward and took what seemed to be a small, black gem with a wide smile. She thanked him, but he pulled her closer and murmured something into her ear. However Anduin strained, he could not understand what was said between them then, but the Elf nodded once more before she stepped aside and put her fingers to her lips to let forth a sharp whistle.

"Prince Anduin, Wrathion. Good day." she greeted them with a grin, and then she leapt off the cliff.

Anduin gasped in surprise and leaned over the wall, quickly catching the air of a swift Dragonhawk zipping past him with the Elf on its back. As Anduin tumbled back, a magical blue object flew down towards Mason's Folley.

"Wrathion! Watch out!" he screamed and reached out towards Wrathion to cast a shielding spell at him.

Wrathion seemed puzzled as the golden hue of the spell slowed down in its creation. Instead of enveloping him whole, only bits and pieces hung like freckles in the air. Anduin stared at him with a bewildered gaze. Everything around them had gone deathly silent until Wrathion finally moved towards Anduin.

It seemed so very dream-like, his clothes waving gently as if he was moving through water rather than air. The little Light freckles spat apart and dissipated in the air when Wrathion moved through them. He moved past the middle of the little terrace, where the object hung a mere inch off the ground. It was spinning slowly, slow enough to make out its proper appearance for Anduin. It was an hourglass. A bright blue hourglass with white sand in it that was spinning so fast none of the grains of sand reached the other side as they should.

"You're hurt." Wrathion murmured and knelt by Anduin's side.

"I'm... What did you do?" Anduin answered even more silently, scared to break the spell.

He did indeed realise then – he was injured. His leg had been cut open once more by his tumble, but his blood wasn't pouring out. It flowed through his veins easily, only a few small beads forming to seek to pour out of its confinements despite the size of the wound. Wrathion clacked his tongue disapprovingly and didn't answer Anduin's question. Instead he removed his gloves and tossed them aside. It took them longer to reach the ground than for Wrathion to press against the wound with his turban, the cleanest piece of cloth he had on hand.

"Not quite what I had planned, Anduin..." Wrathion frowned, obviously blaming him for something.

Then, without warning, the painlessness of his leg went as quickly as it had come. The small hourglass exploded, sending tiny bits of shrapnel everywhere. Wrathion was caught off guard as well as Anduin was, though his body was mostly shielding the blonde Prince's. He growled in pain as Anduin suddenly convulsed, not even noticing the new wounds on his cheeks and chest when his leg started gushing out the blood that had been kept inside so easily a moment ago.

"It really hurts, Light!" Anduin groaned, trying to use his magic to heal his leg.

Something was definitely wrong. The bleeding wouldn't stop, and the Light wouldn't answer his prayers! Something was interfering with the magic. As he tried to make Wrathion aware of this, he saw the Black Prince had grabbed something from his pocket. A white marble pebble it seemed, but before Anduin could utter another word, be it question or raising alarm, Wrathion tried to shove the pebble into Anduin's open mouth. He tried to scream in protest and turn away, but Wrathion was too strong.

"Swallow it!" he hissed, anxiously watching over his shoulder.

Anduin grumbled in his spasms and involuntarily swallowed the pebble before Wrathion was dragged off him by the two guards. He was so cold, like suddenly the sun had set and the mists came rolling down the mountainside. He could barely make out the face of the elder guard, Tanner, before he was overcome by the Shadows of sleep.

Author's note: I re-wrote this chapter like, eight times. They just wouldn't do what I wanted them to do! :( The way I write is... I don't have a plan beforehand. I just push two characters together and sometimes epic stuff happens, sometimes it doesn't, and sometimes (like happened this time) they keep arguing and bitching and I'm like "damn it kiss already!" but they won't... This chapter was supposed to be more smut, but instead it became weird magic and... well, I mean, there'll be smut. I just need to keep writing - which I definitely will! I can't promise there'll ever be an ending to this though, though I hope it'll be at the beginning of Warlords of Draenor (since we're mid-Pandaria now in the story) As for the pebble, that'll be explained in chapter 7 ;)


	6. 6 Homesick

"Wrathion, we can't protect you if you head out there alone. What if the Horde and Alliance run into each other?"

"Then I'll just have to stand my ground, won't I?" Wrathion bit at his bodyguard.

"I think they'll tear you apart if they find out you've been playing both sides, and with armies rolling in from all sides you'd think maybe you shouldn't put a target on your back for both of them." the woman scoffed.

"I don't pay you to think, Raven. Now shut up and hand me that box of mana potions."

"I still-"

Wrathion moved faster than a breath of air, with the rage of a wildfire as he lifted her off the ground with one claw-formed hand. He snarled at her and dug his claws deep enough into her skin to draw blood. She didn't shriek, she didn't cringe, but he could feel her heartbeat quicken and the fear in her eyes was apparent to him.

"Hand me. The potions." he growled menacingly before dropping her to the ground.

She coughed sharply, but she kept her balance. She grabbed the case and wordlessly continued helping Wration pack.

Anduin sighed heavily and stared out the small porthole. Mist clung to the outside and covered the inside with small beads of moisture. The air was hot and clammy, as if someone had tried to boil the sea outside – and had succeeded. The hotness was unbearable and made Anduin's leg throb painfully.

"Please, Prince Anduin, try ta heal yerself as best ye can. With them reports of Horde Ships about in these bleedin' mists – excuse the language – we cannae afford ta lose any mana fer our healers." the captain had told him.

Anduin winced as he tried to shift in the uncomfortable cot. It was too small, too cramped, and seemed to barely have a mattress after he'd gotten used to the lush Pandaren beds. He'd give just about anything by now to be back there, resting easily in cool mists and not this hellish boiled seawater… To be back there with Wrathion, who'd massage his leg with the oil…

Suddenly he gasped in pain and sat upright as pain shot through his lower body. The memories had sparked his arousal, but the shift in blood and pressure, though limited, was painful. Anduin exercised his breathing, in through the nose and out through the mouth, trying to calm himself and soothe the pain, banning any and all thoughts of Wrathion out of his mind in an attempt of self-preservation. But the pain didn't stop.

Three breaths later Anduin sensed a shift in the air near him. His eyes had closed automatically, and he didn't bother to open them. If the captain had come to check on him again but still wouldn't give him a way out he wasn't worth the attention and effort. Anduin grunted as a soft hum of magic started in the cramped room. Even after the distinguished whooshing sound of a teleport spell came to an end, Anduin still didn't open his eyes. He was simply in too much pain, too focussed on dulling the agony with what little magic he had left.

"Anduin."

He grumbled a reply, staying still as a statue. He paid little attention to the rummaging sounds and clinking of glass. He cursed the captain and his rationing. He cursed his leg. He cursed Garrosh Hellscream and the Bell of Harmony. He cursed the Light for not answering his prayers.

"Open up."

Anduin grunted again, clenching his teeth. He was about to tell whoever had entered to sod off when a particularly sharp wave hit the port side and made the entire ship roll. He let out a scream of pain with the sudden shift, but found his mouth immediately filled with a sweet tasting potion. He coughed, swallowed and coughed again, moving to push away his assailant and opened his eyes.

"Wh-Wrathion?" Anduin managed between his coughs. "How did- how did you get here?"

Wrathion shook his head. He seemed genuinely worried and pulled off his turban, releasing his shoulder long black curls. He propped it up as a pillow behind Anduin's back.

"I gave you a mana potion. You looked like you were running low. Do you want another one?" Wrathion asked as he walked over to the single door of the room and barred it.

"How are you here?" Anduin managed, trying to control his scrunched-up face and painful gruns.

"I made you swallow a Hearth Stone Anchor. It's a, uh, trick I learned… Don't worry, it should dissolve by tomorrow or so."

"Tomorrow? Wrathion, it's been three days!"

"Oh, right, … Well, it'll just pass naturally then. I hope."

"You HOPE?!" Anduin exclaimed and reached out to Wrathion.

Another wave hit the ship and Anduin yowled in pain. Everything went black.

Anduin woke to candlelight. He felt heavy, warm, content… He felt comfortable. He let his eyes close halfway again. He wasn't sure why, but he had a feeling he was still asleep. He couldn't be this comfortable and be awake. But perhaps he wasn't awake. Perhaps he was asleep. Or perhaps he was dead, and this was the way it felt to be taken into the Light.

That thought made Anduin start wide awake. He tried to sit upright, but was almost immediately pushed down again by Wrathion, who sat on the side of his bed, smiled and put a finger on his lips.

"Hush now, Human Prince. It's alright. You're safe. I put the oil on your leg to help you sleep. Didn't look like it could hurt, from the bags under your eyes and the way you went out like a light with those waves."

It took him a little while to put things into perspective, but eventually Anduin managed a smile. Wrathion was here. And even better, the pain in his leg was gone. Or at least greatly dulled. He couldn't tell with the great sense of calm that came over him.

"You… put a stone in me. An anchor?" he asked.

"Yes…" Wrathion answered. "Carved from my very own Hearth."

"I see. That's a pretty crazy thing to do, Wrathion."

At that the Black Prince laughed and nodded. His cheeks coloured with a blush whilst his earrings and curls shook gently.

"Would you rather I hadn't?" Wrathion asked then, looking at Anduin tentatively.

Anduin smiled and shook his head.

"I'd rather you had come sooner."

They sat in silence for a few seconds before a knock sounded at the door. It was the captain that burst their happy bubble with his gruff voice. Anduin looked panicked up at Wrathion, who leapt to his feet silent as a cat.

"Prince Anduin? Are ye awake?"

"Ehh, … yeah, what is it?" Anduin answered while Wrathion dashed towards the door and carefully, nearly soundlessly slid the bar off the lock.

"Ye missed suppertime, Prince Anduin. Would ye like fer me ta bring ye some now?"

"Y-yeah, that's okay."

"Alright, Prince Anduin. I'll be back soon with the cook's slop. Gotsta keep yer strength up, eh?"

"Thanks, captain." Anduin called out to the door.

Wrathion was still pressed against the wall next to the door. They looked at each other. They both knew that Wrathion couldn't stay. But neither wanted for the Black Prince to leave.

"I can't stay…" Wrathion started in a hushed tone.

"I know." Anduin answered him huskily.

"When will you land?"

"I don't know. We're sailing blind in these mists." Anduin sighed. "Could be days, could be weeks."

"More like days, judging by the Stranglethorn Vale-esque heat if I should guess." Wrathion mused.

"He'll be back soon. This cot doesn't really provide any place for you to hide… Not even…"

"Not even for my whelp form, I know. I… I should leave. Can you open the porthole?"

Anduin reached up towards the porthole, stretching to feel for a latch that kept it in place. He didn't find a latch, but he found a magical rune instead.

"Yes. I think I can."

"Then open it, and I'll slip out through there." Wrathion whispered, rolling his shoulders to prepare for his transformation.

"Will you fit?" Anduin wondered.

"Heh. I sure hope so."

"When will I see you again?"

"Days or weeks, Prince Anduin. I'm not giving up that easily. After all, you owe me now." he murmured and winked at Anduin.

Anduin frowned. However attracted to Wrathion he was, he wasn't keen on the idea of owing anything to Wrathion. Footsteps sounded on the walkway outside however, so there wasn't any time for reconsideration. Anduin wiped out the rune and opened the porthole. Wrathion turned into his whelp form and the fat little child-dragon zipped towards the misty darkness. The iron scraped against Wrathion's tough scales, hurting only his belly-scales a little before he wrung out of the narrow window. Anduin had scarcely clapped it shut again when the captain entered the room, wondering who had left the chest full of mana-potions, exotic oils and wine in Anduin's room. The Human Prince smiled sheepishly, but wouldn't explain. The captain didn't dare ask further, since at least now the Prince was eating and looked somewhat healthy again. All the better the Prince wouldn't look like a horse's back end when the captain would deliver him to Stormwind.


End file.
